


60 Minutemen

by caprigender



Series: The adventures of Mica Lynne, Sole Survivor of Vault 111 and esteemed mayor of Trashtown Micatropolis [3]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Genderqueer Character, embarrassing childhood memories, singing along to the radio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 06:13:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6183829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caprigender/pseuds/caprigender
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mica sings all the time, Preston occasionally joins in but he's a little more hesitant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	60 Minutemen

**Author's Note:**

> I read a cute headcanon and can't remember where I saw it but I decided to write a small thing cause why not

Preston Garvey was a fucking delight. His smile was like sunshine and flowers. When you told him this (or any other compliment, for that matter) he would stumble and stutter and always sounded genuinely surprised. He stubbornly insisted on seeing the best in everyone he was close to while also refusing to see the best in himself. He wasn’t a fan of dark or sarcastic humor but when you found the silly cheesy little jokes that would make him laugh that deep melodic chuckle was always worth the effort. But the thing Mica loved best about traveling with Preston Garvey was his singing.

Diamond City Radio only played so many songs, and Preston had grown up out here in the commonwealth so naturally he knew all the words. Mica would notice him humming along as he was out on patrol or as the two of them wandered the countryside. It was shy and quiet, a far cry from the way she belted out anything she recognized, passing the time the only way she knew how. Loudly. She’d hoped that her own attitude would put him at ease and encourage him to raise his volume and it had worked out pretty well. He wouldn’t always sing along, trailing off when he thought more stealth was necessary, but their voices rose above the wasteland, mixing with the crackling music of her pip boy radio.

Still, there was one song she noticed he would never sing along with. Even if they’d been belting things out together only moments before, as soon as “Sixty Minute Man” came on the radio Preston got awkwardly quiet in the same way he would whenever she got a little too forward in her flirtations.

“So what’s the deal, PG?” She asked him at one point, “Too raunchy for you?”

“Um, excuse me?”

“I notice shit. You sing along with everything else but as soon as Billy Ward comes on your lips are sealed.”

He shifted awkwardly and avoided her gaze. “Is that who sings this? Huh.”

She grinned at him. Babydoll was embarrassed and if that wasn’t the cutest damn thing she wasn’t sure what was, “Nice try dodging the question, honeybunch. So, what is it? Being modest? Don’t wanna brag about your amazing sexual prowess?” She laughed, “No pressure, of course, but you know if you don’t own up I’m just gonna have to let my imagination run wild and you’ve seen how that ends.”

He let out an embarrassed huff and fidgeted with his hat. “Yeah, your mind’s a terrifying place, General.”

She gasped, “You really think that, Preston? I’m flattered. Soooo…?”

Preston cleared his throat, “I used to sing this song a lot, actually. Back when I was little and didn’t know what it meant. I… thought it was about the Minutemen.” He peeked at the General out of the corner of his eye. Her lips were pressed together in a tight line and he could tell she was trying her hardest not to shake apart laughing. He sighed, “Go ahead and laugh, General.”

To her credit, the snickers were still stifled and didn’t last nearly as long as his cousin’s laughing had been when he’d first been caught singing along. “Oh my gosh, Pres. That’s so cute. How are you always so adorable?” 

He tugged his hat down and shifted the weight of the bags on his shoulder. “We should keep moving.”

“Alright, alright, point taken,” she giggled, watching him as the two of them continued on down the road. “You know, Pres, as the general of the newly re-formed Minutemen, I could make that our new anthem.”

He turned to her, his eyes wide as dinner plates. “You wouldn’t.” She cracked up, tripping over her own feet and gasping for air. Preston sighed. “Fuck you, General.”


End file.
